It’s just a chair–flops back, legs wobble
Kinda cracking along the seams
Used to be white, now creamy to tan.  

At the summer place, don’t threaten
The White Chair, don’t make plans
To replace that one thing, don’t move it
 
From its place there on the lanai,
Even if it doesn’t fit the décor. It’s vacation
What heck with decorating frou frou?  

That chair will put one to sleep regardless
Of the hour, the day, the heartbreak,
The punishment, the weather or worry.
 
Some things need to stand alone
Be left alone waiting for the next
Weary soul who needs well worn  

Trusted, proven comfort. We all cherish
The White Chair, and woe to the one who
Dares to say she won’t always be there.  

Ah, but who is to say a chair actually offers
Sleep denied elsewhere? Could it be more
A figment of our own needed respite?  

Leave me alone, and leave my chair alone.
The irrational doesn’t need explanations 
And parsing, they just are and that is enough.